


Stock Cars and Sanctioning Bodies

by Deifire



Category: Cubicles & Careers, NASCAR RPF
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Humor, NASCAR as an RPG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 07:36:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5448518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deifire/pseuds/Deifire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Okay,” Danica said. “I use my hammer…I mean, my stock car, and smash his car in!”</em>
</p><p>The gang from Cubicles & Careers tries role playing in a different fantasy setting. Wackiness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wreck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [debirlfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/debirlfan/gifts).



Danica Patrick was angry. Racing hard for position was one thing, but this was the third time Ricky Stenhouse had made contact. She got loose and barely managed to save her car as he went roaring past her.

“That’s it!” she yelled once she had the car under control again. She raced through the field, dodging slower cars and barely avoiding wrecks, until she caught up to Ricky.

“Can I see him?” she asked aloud.

“He’s right in front of you,” a voice confirmed.

“Okay,” Danica said. “I use my hammer…I mean, my stock car, and smash his car in!”

There was a loud sigh. 

“Are you sure?” the wizard asked. “That sort of behavior isn’t really allowed in the game of Stock Cars and Sanctioning Bodies. It is, at the very least, likely to result in a stiff fine.”

“Besides, is your character not dating this non-player driver?” asked the elf.

“We could go on a quest!” added the knight, not exactly helpfully. “To find your character a lover who’s a better driver.”

The orc studied his “Danica Patrick” character sheet carefully. “I don’t care,” he said. “Under the circumstances and given my alignment, I need to express my displeasure. I smash his car in!”

“All right.” The wizard rolled a die. “Oh, dear. You bump Ricky and spin him out, but in the process you also spin out yourself, and,” another die roll, “take out three other cars.”

The wizard made another roll. “Including your boss,” he added.

“What?!” exclaimed the cleric.

“Curse this game!” the orc cried, as he slammed his hammer down on the table.


	2. The Interview

Tony Stewart left the infield care center muttering under his breath. Of all the stupid…it wasn’t even as if he had been hurt, as he had repeatedly told them, and this ridiculous requirement to get himself checked out was wasting precious time.

He startled as he suddenly realized he was surrounded by reporters. One shoved a microphone in his face. “Smoke, are you okay?” the reporter asked.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Everyone's fine. I simply need to get to the garage to see if the guys have managed to heal the car with their potions…I mean, with whatever strange magics they use in this world, so we can get back out there and run a few laps.”

“Can you tell us what happened out there?” the reporter asked.

“Um…” Tony froze.

The wizard shook his head. “I’m afraid your witty response roll has failed,” he told the cleric.

“Curse—” she began, then looked at her character sheet. “No, wait! Tony has a bonus to any attack involving snark or sarcasm! See?”

“That does help a little,” the wizard conceded.

Tony Stewart glared at the reporter. “Your mom happened out there,” he said, before stalking off to the garage.

Everyone else at the table stared.

“We could go on a quest,” said the knight. “To find and burn every recording of this interview.”

The cleric sighed. “Curse this game,” she said.


	3. The Pit Stop

Kurt Busch groaned. A twenty-one second pit stop had cost him several spots on the track, and he didn’t know if he could make it up to contend for the lead again. His team couldn’t afford to keep making mistakes like that.

His crew chief was apologizing to him on the radio.

“I need to find a way to motivate this pit crew,” the elf said. “I use a charm to—" he began, until he looked down at his character sheet and found no such item. “I mean, I use…” he paused as he looked through his list of options. 

“We could go on a quest to find you a new pit crew,” the knight suggested in the meantime.

“I use cussing!” the elf finally exclaimed triumphantly. “According to this, it’s one of Kurt’s greatest skills!”

The wizard rolled a die, and nodded. “Your profanity-laden rant to your crew over the radio raises cussing to the level of an art form. Fans talk about it on,” he consulted his notes. “Twitter? Okay, fans discuss it using birds for months to come.” 

The wizard made another roll. “Unfortunately, your crew is completely demoralized. On your next pit stop, the tire changer misses several lug nuts. Three laps later, a wheel falls off your car.”

“Kurt” muttered some out-of-character profanity in elvish. “Curse this game,” he added.


	4. The Restart

Ten laps to go, and the field was under caution. Kevin Harvick, who had somehow managed to race his way to second while his teammates were having difficulties, waited nervously for the drop of the green flag. All he needed to do was pass some non-player driver named Dale Earnhardt, Junior for the lead and take the checkered flag, and they could all finally stop this ridiculous race and go do something useful. Perhaps a quest.

“Remember, we’re all counting on you,” his boss told him.

“Get ready, get ready,” his spotter was saying. Then, “Green, green, green…!”

Kevin hit the gas and took off. He sped past the Dale Junior car to take the lead. He was going to win. He was going to…

“I’m sorry, Kevin,” the wizard said. “NASCAR has ruled that you jumped the restart. You’ll need to serve a pass-through penalty.”

“What?!” said the knight. “I will do no such thing! I waited until the appropriate time to pass. It’s not my fault his car was slower than mine.”

“I am sorry, but that is the ruling,” the wizard said. 

“Then that ruling is stupid and inconsistent,” said the knight.

The wizard made a roll. “You are now being black flagged and ordered to park your car.”

“Curse this game,” the knight said. Then, “Fine! I park my car and go on a quest! To storm the NASCAR Oval Office and demand justice from its tyrannical rulers. Who’s with me?”

“Huzzah!” said the rest of party.


	5. The Monday Team Meeting

Tony Stewart stood and addressed the rest of the Stewart-Haas racing team. “Okay, so Martinsville wasn’t our best weekend. We wrecked three good cars, and some of us are facing serious penalties, up to and including being banned from the sport for life, for failing to the follow the directions of an official, setting the NASCAR hauler aflame, enslaving King Brian France, and other actions detrimental to stock car racing. Did I get that right?”

The cleric turned to the wizard who raised his head from his hands long enough to say, “Mostly.”

The cleric turned back toward the rest of the party. “Under the circumstances,” she continued, back in character as Tony, “I have just one thing to say: Good job team!”

“Huzzah!” cried the rest of the party.

The knight raised his hand.

“Yes, Kevin?” said the cleric.

“I have a suggestion: Let’s go on a quest!”

There were nods and murmurs of agreement from around the table, save from the wizard, who just groaned.

“And next time, let’s try to find a game that takes place in a fantasy universe less ridiculous,” said the orc.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said the elf. “I liked the part where you get to thank your sponsors. In fact, I’m thinking of ending every real-life quest thus. You know, ‘I’d like to thank King Ronald of Blarthvaria, the maidens of the Whispering Woods, Mountain Dew, the makers of Bag of Holding, the messenger we accidentally killed and whose loot we ransacked…’”

The wizard sighed. “Curse this game,” he said.


End file.
